


wilted roses; pcy.

by arrowthroughtheheart



Series: demon-slayer-inspired [1]
Category: BLACKPINK (Band), NCT (Band), 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, Anyways, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Gen, Gore, Historical References, Murder, No Romance, No Smut, Park Chaeyoung is a demon, TW: Fucked Up Morals, Well - Freeform, also go watch kny, and Jaehyun is, but - Freeform, but is it though, demon slayer-inspired, hohoho, i think, mentions of eating human, no beta im so sorry i suck, not even a good platonic relationship, nothing good in here move on, part 1 i guess, read to find out ig, the relationship is tagged like that but it aint romantic i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowthroughtheheart/pseuds/arrowthroughtheheart
Summary: Chaeyoung is brooding, she can feel the intensity of her own eyes glaring past the feast laid out in front of her, narrowing on a single spot. A damaged wall, one that is not beyond repair but also strangely anger-inducing. She couldn’t figure out for the life of her why the sight of that crooked wall, leaning over from a punch (or maybe a slice) angers her so, but it’s just so. . . revolting to look at.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Park Chaeyoung | Rosé
Series: demon-slayer-inspired [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781881
Kudos: 2





	wilted roses; pcy.

**Author's Note:**

> this is heavily inspired by kimetsu no yaiba a.k.a demon slayer but like. . . idk. . . with KPOP idols. im- okay.   
> TW: Mentions of Blood, Gore, Fucked-Up Morals, Cannibalism, and decisions that are made based heavily under influences and pressure - so, like, be careful. i guess. the series itself is almost as fucked up but not rlly, i guess. hm.

Chaeyoung is brooding, she can feel the intensity of her own eyes glaring past the feast laid out in front of her, narrowing on a single spot. A damaged wall, one that is not beyond repair but also strangely anger-inducing. She couldn’t figure out for the life of her why the sight of that crooked wall, leaning over from a punch (or maybe a slice) angers her so, but it’s just so. . . revolting to look at. There’s bile forming in the back of her throat, and seemingly as someone who identifies as a being who doesn't fear death since it’s passed long before her very existence right here and now - she gets anxious over the climbing fear that is clawing her throat.

She remembers a few things, here and there.

Before her blood curled in on themselves, changed into something else.  _ Demonised,  _ if you can say that and live long enough without Chaeyoung slashing you into pieces, unforgiving and aggressive in nature. The man who turned her took enough pity on her that one day, and although she’s only ever heard her own backstory from this man; this illusive, mysterious man that everyone fears yet follows blindly - Chaeyoung trusts that the facts are checked. She’s never wanted to know. Never felt the need to know.

All she knows is of the fact that she’s blindly hungry (or maybe even thirsty) for blood, the taste and scent almost overwhelming that it overpowered any thoughts and reasoning she’s had for anything else before that. Chaeyoung never got the time to think about anything else when even in the quietest nights, with only the squelching sounds of meat ripping into fibres from her sharpened teeth biting into them, she barely can even hear her long-gone consciousness. It’s there, though, she noticed sometimes, when the thirst is barely sated. It’ll make her feel bad, and she’ll crawl away from the bones left, piled a few feet away from her like a massive graveyard, and her consciousness would fade somewhere else yet remain the same as she sob internally to the sound of her own growls and hisses. 

Sometimes she would remember.

She’d remember in dreams, other humans surrounding her subconsciousness like fairies in faraway places while she rots in the deepest pits of hell, their faces fogged up but never darkened - and somehow, she’d recognize them even if it was only a split second. The dreams would invoke in her heart something akin to fire, the rage so strong she never knows what to do but sit there and take as she’s attacked by a slaughter of bad dreams.

Chaeyoung was fourteen when her country started getting infiltrated, the first few ones acting like unimportant fleas that would never make a dent big enough to leave the entire country broken, but opened a path enough for the next ones, coming like waves. When the people came to their senses, most of their sources were monopolized and their men-power stripped down to the core, forced to work for the newfound monopolizers instead. Chaeyoung’s family stayed stable pretty well, of course, that was until they can no longer stay afloat.

The demon remembers little to nothing in her dreams, what happened before she met the one man that promised her a better life, however much pain she must’ve been in to just blindly accept the invite, not knowing that this is somehow what the promised life was going to be about. Never-ending stream of blood trickling down the innards of her throat, floating in and out of her own consciousness as if she’s drowned in someone else’s memories, and the torturous amount of nightmares she always seems to be on the receiving end of. She’s pretty sure nothing about this life is much better than her previous one, and sometimes the longing to die overpowers her - but however much she wishes for death, she’ll open her eyes the next day.

How many years has it been?

Surely it hasn’t been that long, hasn’t it? 

Chaeyoung situated herself in an abandoned building one day, deserted since she’s dropped off near a previously massacred city that was absolutely annihilated by bombs. She never asked for the details from the man she drank the blood of, but thinking about it again, she never could. That man found her - and this part Chaeyoung remembers clearly - running away from. . . some other men, all clad in uniforms covered in a sheen layer of dust and ash, who previously poked her with their sharpened weapons, some even threatened to shoot from afar if she moved, back then. She managed to outwit them for a few fleeting seconds, and on her way to the outskirts of a beach, some random man caught her arm and started spewing irrational nonsense about wanting to change her life for the better. . . and he promised to protect her, too.

Chaeyoung didn’t know why she trusted the man even without knowing who on earth he could be, but there’s something so alluring and other-worldly mysterious about the bright and red eyes that made her give her one last call of consent - and it apparently led to a mass murder. There were a few more men than expected on her tails, and in less than fifteen minutes later, they were all  _ dead. _

She was then offered to drink  _ his  _ blood - the man that defeated more men than Chaeyoung has ever seen. It was just a pinch of blood, she realized, though it was explained that even that could’ve been something more than she can take. She took it. She still doesn’t know if it  _ was  _ more than she can take. This life feels like more than she can take. 

She was then brought to the place she resides in now, a broken half-destroyed place that used to be humongous. There were only a few rules she was given, one being the fact that she’s absolutely not allowed to get out during the hours when the sun is present in the sky, and the second being the fact that she can  _ not  _ go too far. There were boundaries, and the man told Chaeyoung that she would be beyond ‘not ready’ to confront the realities of the life she leads now. She doesn’t know when she would be ready.

“You’ll be safe here, at the very least,” the man had said, patting her shoulders. Chaeyoung remembers growling very inappropriately for a lady back then, and her entire upper body was twitching, but the memory seemed strangely stable enough. “They won’t get you here.”

Chaeyoung has no idea what she has to be safe from, and how far away she is from being ‘ready’, but this entire set up has made her feel a little too babied at times, and yet she never tries to run away. Or take a bold step forward. Neither does she feel like she’s able to do it.

Her entire mind experiences a light blacking out moment anytime her thirst skyrockets and her teeth itches for themselves to rip the fresh flesh off of another human, which explains why she remembers close to nothing about the new life she’s lead and how much different it is for her outside the confines of her current abode.

The stench of rotting bones and decay attacks her nose once again, and Chaeyoung can feel the back of her throat closing up as her stomach wrenches in disgust, and a loud inhumane growl comes out of her. She threw an annoyed glance to the side, where the rest of the bodies she had so blindly dug through pile on top of eachother. It’s almost heartbreaking for the voices inside her head that the first instinct it brought upon her consciousness was how much  _ hungrier  _ she feels even after she’s had at least three young men recently - and above all that, one of them fought a fight worth noting.

He wore a very hard-to-rip uniform, but looking at the design made Chaeyoung retch in anger over the slight memories she’s had of her nightmares - and at the end she was able to watch the human convulse to try and hang on to every little string of hope he’s got on living before he died, the blood drained almost entirely from his body. He cuts Chaeyoung here and there, first aiming towards her neck which didn’t lead to anything since she dodged him as fast as she could, enraged that he would bring something like a  _ sword  _ to where she lives. Another one landed on her cheekbones and the center of her head, both did nothing worse than driving her mindless nature further into anger, and while trying to run away with his other two friends(?), this young man tried to drop the building on Chaeyoung by destroying one of the walls with his sword. 

It didn’t work and they did die, Chaeyoung got her long-awaited food and her building didn’t fall on her, but she’s still pissed beyond beliefs.

She doesn’t know why, but probably it’s because the cuts  _ hurt. _

Chaeyoung’s not new to being attacked by humans who don’t want to be eaten, since it’s everyone’s first instincts to deny death as a final result of life. She still blacks out during her hunts but eventually, after she returns to her den with her prey, she would usually sober up a little bit and notice the healing cuts. None of those ever hurts as much as this young man’s cuts, and she hates having to fight pain. That’s the only reason why she’s here, right? To not feel pain.

If she still feels the pain. . . what was the whole point?

Chaeyoung huffs, sitting up to touch the top of her head. It’s healed completely, but the spot is still tender to the touch and some of her hair hasn’t sprouted back to life, which sucks. What sucks more is the fact that her inner dialogue is being noisy with her tears again, sobbing as if it would turn anything back to the way they were before. She just needs to accept it, Chaeyoung thinks, rolling her eyes at how dramatic her innermost feelings could be; they will never return into a life the old Chaeyoung used to lead. Even if they were, wouldn’t they be old women by now?

_ No,  _ Chaeyoung thinks,  _ to take control over yourself, you shouldn’t act like you’re two completely different personalities.  _

Maybe something could kill the voices, the extremely wrong vibe she’s getting from all of this. Maybe another set of humans. Maybe even a breakthrough from all the scores she’s been setting for herself. Maybe. . .

Chaeyoung’s head snaps upwards at a velocity that might break a human’s bones, her nose sensing something different. Her ears are catching movement outside her gardens--one that isn’t suited to be called a garden since it’s so deserted and. . . dead. But someone is out there. Someone foolish enough, maybe? 

The better part of her wants her to think this through, think about if her sudden attack might work since this presence feels oddly familiar and slightly  _ scary,  _ but Chaeyoung’s all of a sudden long past the part where she listens to the better part of her. 

Her feet brought her outside, and within only a few seconds she caught the intruder coming at her from the side of her destroyed building and she launched her attack, not minding the fact that someday, she’s going to meet some people that might actually know how to fight back.

As she has seen today, however, Chaeyoung should’ve known that it might be a possibility that she’s a lot more vulnerable than she lets on.

Her jaw was wide open, ready to snatch this man by his arm since he’s got it outstretched in an odd way. It’s almost dumb, she thinks in her mind, as she inches closer and closer to digging her teeth between the warmth of human meat and their very warm, very alive being, that someone would be this close to something as abandoned as her humble abode to think that no one is residing in them. Foolish. Something is always residing somewhere.

But maybe this one time, Chaeyoung should take the crown for being foolish.

It was all too late when the man she’s after looks up, and Chaeyoung is met with the same familiar red eyes she’s seen looking down at her as he offered to help her all those years ago, the same man who she hasn’t seen for ages and is now smiling in that wicked way he’s always seen smiling, the dimples showing up in his pale skin illuminated by the moonlight that was previously covered by Chaeyoung’s leaping body.

In less than a movement of a second, Chaeyoung realizes that she’s faced with someone she doesn’t want to mess with, but it’s a little too late as his fingers came in contact with the bottom of Chaeyoung’s jaw and he digs in, making the female demon dangle in between his fingers holding her in a chokehold a few inches above ground. Chaeyoung stills, ignoring the sting of the man’s nails digging to the side of her cheeks.

You shouldn’t look into  _ Jung Jaehyun’s  _ eyes, she knows. But she has nowhere else to look.

“Ah,” Jung Jaehyun starts, his voice sounding like a low stir at the back of his throat, and just by that simple statement Chaeyoung notices just how pissed the man is. “If it isn’t the little princess running around at night. Haven’t you had enough fill for today, young one?” he asks, his face emotionless save for the glinting red eyes, but maybe they’re just the way they are since they have such an astounding colour. 

Chaeyoung saves the question for a later time, since she knows that Jung Jaehyun could figure out almost everything he wants to know just with a click of his finger. Literally, too, since he’s shared a part of his DNA with almost every single abnormal creature the world has dubbed the name ‘demons’. It’s funny, really.

“Not yet, sir,” was all Chaeyoung answered with, each movement of her lips further stinging her wounded jaw, “not enough.”

This was the first time Chaeyoung spoke in years, and somehow her voice doesn’t come out as ragged and grainy as she thought it would’ve. 

Jaehyun tsk-es, a little impatient but with a glint of amusement. He’s impressed, Chaeyoung can feel. She wonders if it’s also the DNA doing their job, telling Jaehyun’s little minions how he feels during certain times. 

_ “Even a little demon slayer isn’t enough for you, princess?” _

Chaeyoung takes this time to scrunch her eyebrows, trying to process the information she’s got. The term is new for her, though Chaeyoung doesn’t completely forget every human terminology in the language she once had to use on a day to day basis, using them together was never an option for her to do. A demon slayer? The name speaks for itself.

Though Chaeyoung never had it in her to ask Jung Jaehyun  _ why  _ she’s always referred to as a princess. It’s a terrain she’s afraid she’ll breach into without being able to come out of it alive, so as of now. . .

“No,” she concludes, one of her hands reaching up to her jaw, twirling themselves around Jaehyun’s fingers before she starts pulling them apart,  _ “I said, not enough.” _

The attempt amused Jung Jaehyun, though his hold was unwavering. Chaeyoung still tries though, apparently unphased by how overpowering his presence was - she refuses to have a conversation when she feels so unimportant, weak, almost degraded. As if she didn’t have that her entire life before this, or did she?

“That’s  _ it,”  _ Jaehyun finally hums before he lets his own clutch free, and Chaeyoung drops to the ground on her knees, though she stood up quickly right after, not giving away how agitated she truly feels. “I love the spirit,” the man continues, looking away from the young sapling he’s faced with, blood trickling from the healing holes on the side of her face and fists balled by her side though her face and stature remains unphased. 

“I’m flattered,” Chaeyoung wipes a warm trickle away from her chin, “sir.”

“Since you have. . . proved yourself enough,” Jung Jaehyun tilts his head, mumbling to himself, “you will accompany me. Assist me in my mission, and so on and so forth. A little more of my blood would be enough to keep you from,” he frowns, in search of the right word, “going ballistic when you’re hungry, wouldn’t it?”

Chaeyoung gulps, her eyes hyper-focused on Jung Jaehyun’s wrist all of a sudden. It brought her back to some time even her mind couldn’t keep up with, but the once again mysteriously alluring presence sets her off guard. However much she hates to admit it, Jung Jaehyun is the most powerful  _ demon  _ persona she’s ever seen, and it isn’t saying that she’s seen a lot since to be honest, she hasn’t. She just  _ knows.  _ There’s a time where sometimes, memories that aren’t hers would flow through the floating dreamland of her mind when she shuts herself off to sleep sometimes, and those replayed memories would show a bunch of other beings, the same as herself and Jaehyun, somewhere far, far away, respecting this man. Chaeyoung doesn’t really know how much respect he’s going to demand from her to give, but would she give everything to be stronger? Wasn’t she the same person who craved eternal death only a few hours, maybe minutes ago?

“Come,” Jaehyun beckons her closer, bored, “we’ll see if you can handle this amount of blood or not. It’s either you get stronger and stronger by proving yourself worth it or you’ll just. . . not be able to take it,” he extends his index finger close to Chaeyoung’s forehead before jabbing it in, “and  _ die.” _

There’s a lot she doesn’t know, yet there’s a lot she’s managed to figure out. Chaeyoung has never felt her body convulse in such a way before, not even when the nightmares would visit her and she would be reminded of the first time she was turned into a bloodthirsty demon. Chaeyoung can even  _ feel  _ how strained the muscles around her eyeballs are since it rolled all the way back to her head, and she’s now but a writhing lump of nothingness on the ground, the new blood cells entering her are all too quick at developing new cells she shouldn’t have a need for, but developed either way. Jaehyun stood to the side, his eyes half-closed and half-opened, wiping the excess amount of blood that came from Chaeyoung’s stabbed wound before they healed. He looks at the watch he’s wearing, and then up to the sky, and then back at the  _ now  _ calmly kneeling woman. 

Her jet black hair covers the sides of her face, but Jaehyun catches a glimpse of her glowing purple eyeballs as she kneels there, unmoving. There’s an addition of a small gray thorn in the middle of her forehead, right where he jammed his finger into previously, and her entire skin has turned into a purplish-hue, including the tips of her nails, fading into a darker hue of purple. 

“Hm,” Jaehyun acknowledges, and she stands almost immediately. “Let’s go, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> if yall watch demon slayer. . .   
> would miss rosE be an upper or lower moon lemme know :)


End file.
